But, just before he left the garden, I thought I heard a bitter sigh borne on the wind from the cottage window.
The next day, when I was coming away from early mass, I saw Pierre standing in the porch of the church. The two children were clinging to one of his hands, while the other, still wet with holy water, was gently extended to a young woman who was in the act of passing before him. She was a lovely creature, with golden hair, large expressive blue eyes, and a face like one of Fra Angelico's angels. Although she could not have been less than thirty years old, she appeared to have all the lightness and vivacity of a girl of eighteen.
When their fingers met, an almost imperceptible thrill seemed to affect them both, and as they gazed into one another's faces they both turned deathly pale.
Could it have been the shadow that I recognized through the roses the evening before?
The tide came up very early that evening, and necessitated the departure of all the fishermen before night came on.
Pierre Prévost was one of the first to start, but he went a long way round to get to the sea-shore, and passed before the windows of the rose-covered cottage.
A flower fell at his feet. He picked it up eagerly, and kissing it passionately, thrust it into his bosom and hastened away.
As the evening wore on, and while the little boats were just fading away in the distance, I watched again, and distinctly saw a white handkerchief waving from the window of the pretty cottage.
I was naturally anxious to find out about this little romance, and was continually puzzling my poor brains to discover the truth of the story.
There were hundreds of people I might have asked, and, of course, Alphonsine would have been only too happy to have enlightened me. But I determined, if possible, to hear it all from Pierre's own lips, and accordingly made up my mind to stifle my idle curiosity.